


Not If I Have You

by fairgraves



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: F/M, Unplanned Pregnancy, a tiny bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-27 01:48:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18294398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairgraves/pseuds/fairgraves
Summary: You wanted to sleep in? Too bad.You wanted an extra apple for breakfast? Think again.You thought you were going to get a regular shower when you voluntarily joined as a recruit? Good luck. (And if Maya was being honest, she’d admit that one still made her bitter.)This morning though Maya was tired, more nauseous than normal, and she just didn’t have it in her to jump out of bed because Jacob said so.





	Not If I Have You

Maya had noticed early on that Jacob was a creature of habit that didn’t deviate from his schedule, _ever_. He woke up at the crack of dawn every day and expected everyone to follow suit. Everyone at the Center followed his sleep schedule, his meticulous planning, and his rules.

You wanted to sleep in? Too bad.

You wanted an extra apple for breakfast? Think again.

You thought you were going to get a regular shower when you voluntarily joined as a recruit? Good luck. (And if Maya was being honest, she’d admit that one still made her bitter.)

This morning though Maya was _tired_ , more nauseous than normal, and she just didn’t have it in her to jump out of bed because _Jacob said so_. The sounds of the Center waking up on the other side of her bedroom door lulled her to sleep instead of spurring her into action. She didn’t even register how late it really was until there was a knock on the other side of her door.

Maya didn’t respond until the knock turned into a heavy thudding and Jacob’s impatient voice sounded on the other side. “Let’s go, Finch. Open up.”

Maya got up with a start, lurching out of bed with a curse. When she opened the door mid-knock, he looked her up and down shrewdly, his eyes narrowed in on her pajamas.

“Jacob, I really don’t feel well. Do you mind if I stay back today?”

Pratt was standing behind Jacob, wide-eyed. It was one thing to ask for a day off (unheard of), but it was quite another to keep Jacob Seed waiting. Pratt was calculating all the ways in which she would be punished for her insubordination.

Jacob’s expression hardened and his broad shoulders set, unmoved by her plight. “I don’t care if you’re on Death’s door. You have training like everyone else. Now hurry up and put some proper clothes on.”

Maya wasn’t even sure of the response she was hoping to receive from Jacob, but that sure as hell wasn’t it, and it didn’t help that she had been more emotional as of late. Would it kill him to be a little more compassionate? She eyed Pratt again, frustrated that she couldn’t talk back to Jacob in front of an audience. Maya _mostly_ went along with Jacob’s sleep schedule, meticulous planning, and rules because this was his operation and he was in charge, but ever since she had begun her discreet relationship with him, she didn’t really like being told what to do all that often. If it was what she wanted to do? _Then fine_. If it wasn’t? Jacob would be hearing about it later behind closed doors. 

Maya sighed, resigned to follow Jacob’s order, but glared hatefully at him in defiance while he glared right back at her. With just one look he was daring her to say something in front of Pratt. When she said nothing, he doled out the orders: Maya was to get dressed and meet them downstairs at the truck in five minutes and Pratt was to get a couple of protein bars from the cafeteria for Maya.

Pratt scurried away immediately, but Jacob stood in the threshold for a moment eyeing her suspiciously. When Maya refused to say anything to him (or look at him for that matter), he headed downstairs to the truck without another word.

 

* * *

 

Pratt looked relieved when he saw her trudging toward the truck. “I got you these,” he said handing her the bars, “they’ve got a little chocolate on the tops of them.”

Maya had no desire to eat them, but she was genuinely grateful to Pratt for getting her the chocolate ones. Tears welled up in her eyes like a fool, and she nodded in his direction as a thanks. She didn’t deserve Pratt.   

Pratt got in the passenger side of the truck and gave Jacob and Maya a quick moment to themselves. Jacob scanned the area over her shoulders, off toward the Center, to look for anyone who might have been looking their way. When he was satisfied no one was paying attention, he looked down on her. “Are you gonna behave today?”

She glowered up at him, “Does it really matter if I do?”

He ignored her snipe and looked pointedly at her hand. “You should eat those. Might make you feel better.”

“I doubt it,” she said dismissively.

Jacob grinded his teeth together, his jaw tensing, to keep from responding in anger. She was testing his patience this morning, that much was obvious.

“Fine, let’s get going. We’re late enough as it is.”

Jacob opened the driver’s side door and held it for her. Pratt sat on the passenger side looking straight ahead, like always, with his clipboard in hand. As she climbed in, she felt the bile turn over in her stomach.

 

* * *

 

Jacob’s disembodied voice chided her, “Sloppy.”

Maya ran down the corridor, raised her gun and shot – one, two, three men hit the floor – and the she rounded the corner, expecting to see one of the recruits with an assault rifle pointed at her like always, but he was not there.

“Watch your six, Finch.”   

Maya didn’t even listen. Her mind was somewhere else, her vision tunneled, and she continued down the hall towards the open courtyard.

“Finch,” Jacob’s voice growled, “Pay attention.”

Maya dragged her hand along the wall to steady herself, closing in on the exit to the courtyard. She was almost there… If she could just get through this fucking course, maybe Jacob would let her sleep during lunch. Maybe that might make her feel better.  

Her fingers grazed the wood of the door when she heard the deafening noise of a pistol being discharged behind her, and a heaviness dropped against her back. And then the lights are on – really on, none of that red mood lighting shit Jacob is so fond of – and he’s stalking towards her, pissed. The heaviness on her back? That’s a dead guy with an assault rifle, and now he’s crumpled at her feet.

“What the fuck was that, Finch? You could have got yourself killed!”

Instantly tears well in her eyes again, and she’s not even completely sure why she’s crying beyond _it’s-the-hormones!_ , but she is. When Maya gets mad, she destroys things. When Maya gets mad, she doesn’t cry.

“So what, Jacob? Who _cares_?” She draws out ‘cares’ in an obnoxious, immature way, that’s so unlike her, except now, possibly _with child_ , it’s her default.

Jacob’s eyes widened and he rocked back on the balls of his feet. No one talked to Jacob like this, not even in private, which they most definitely were not. Immediately, around ten men averted their eyes and half turned away from them. They knew this wasn’t going to go well. They knew the proverbial shit had hit the fan. 

And then, she continued, “Not you. You don’t care about anything! I told you I didn’t feel well, I told you I wanted to rest, but you didn’t listen!”

He straightened and folded his arms across his chest. “Is that what _this_ is about, Finch? Because _you’re sick_?”

Jacob was mocking her, pretending she was being unreasonable. (And she was acting crazy, but was it so much to ask for one day off?) But he was partially wrong anyway, because it wasn’t just about her being sick. It’s about being sick _and_ keeping this secret from the one person she so desperately wanted to tell. She knew how the talk would go though, and she had been avoiding it. She threw her hands up in the air and yelled, a guttural, ugly string of curses.

Somebody listening in actually gasped, but she didn’t have the time to see or hear other reactions because that bile she felt rising in the truck? That’s risen completely.

Maya whipped away from Jacob just in time to heave up last night’s dinner and to her surprise, while she’s bent over vomiting, he ran the flat of his hand up her spine to the nape of her neck, gathered her hair in his hand, and waited for her to finish. Anyone who had lingered close by must have been in shock to see him caring for her and truth be told, Maya was surprised he was doing it in public where anyone could see.

When she was finished, Jacob gave orders. “Pratt, see to it that this mess is cleaned up. I’m going to bring Finch back to the Center and will be back after lunch. Understand?”  

Everyone nodded, including Maya out of habit, and then they dispersed. Jacob led her to the truck without another word to her for the time being, opened the truck door for her out of habit, and brought her home.

When they were upstairs, he in her bedroom and she in the tiny bathroom off of the main space, he began. “What is going on with you? Is this your way of breaking things off with me? Getting into fights? I guess you’re sick _now_ , but the last couple of weeks have been hell, Maya.”

 “Get real, Jacob. It’s not that,” Maya gritted her teeth, knowing it was time for The Conversation, and steeling herself for what was about to come. “I think I’m pregnant.”

“You’re pregnant?” he echoed. And then, “Who is the fa—” He didn’t continue his inquiry into the matter because he figured the answer out before he finished his sentence: they had been as careful as possible every time, _except that one time_ , just over two months ago now. He stumbled back in a daze and sat on her bed.

It had been a Sunday. The two had just left one of Joseph’s sermons at his compound when they were ambushed by the Resistance and nearly killed. One of the Resistance members had given chase and was trying to ram them off the road, and Maya, brilliant as ever, had shot the driver, hitting him practically at point-blank range. The driver’s own truck rammed into Jacob’s one final time, forcing it off the road. Jacob’s truck flew into the ditch and was totaled on impact, but both were alive. The driver of the other vehicle couldn’t say the same; Maya was a good shot.

“Christ, you look like hell, Maya,” Jacob had said, ever the romantic, “Are you okay?”

He didn’t look much better, but that didn’t matter to either of them. They both sprang into action all at once: kissing, tugging at each other’s clothes, and then fucking each other on the side of the road unceremoniously. They didn’t even have time to consider protection; they were just happy to be alive. (And later Jacob had joked that it was because it was the first time he had ever seen her in a dress.)

Whatever had happened that day on the side of the road had been a fluke, a lapse of judgement, and something that hadn’t happened again. For a little bit, Maya had thought she was in the clear and that she hadn’t been ovulating. Given her mood swings and consistent vomiting, she was probably wrong.  

Jacob’s questioning brought her out of her reverie. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Maya?”

She sighed. “You said you didn’t want kids. You said you had already done your time, remember?”

And it was true: he had likened his childhood responsibilities of caring for his younger brothers to a prison sentence once during a casual discussion they had had months earlier before she even dreamed she would ever become a mother. Before they had even _maybe_ conceived this nebulous baby. Before she even suspected she was pregnant at all.

Jacob sighed and rested his elbows on his knees, weary. His blue eyes trained on her slumped over the toilet. “It wasn’t taking care of my brothers that bothered me, Maya. It was having shitty parents thrust the responsibility on me when I was too young.”

Maya flicked her gaze back to Jacob, waiting for the final blow. She instinctively knew it was coming; knew what he was going to say next but wasn’t prepared for how hard it would hurt.

“And now I think I’m too old.” The words were heavy, weighted with angst. To his credit though, he didn’t look away from her when he said it. The words were simply his truth, but unfortunately not the sugar-coated words she longed to hear.

Maya’s eyes prickled with tears and she responded quicker than she had time to censor herself. “Oh, I know, Jacob,” she quipped, sarcastically, “You’re old as dirt.” 

“Jacob, sir…?” one of the Chosen interrupted, knocking on Maya’s door tentatively. “Faith’s on the line. She says it’s important.”

Jacob rolled his eyes. Maya wasn’t sure who he was annoyed at though: the interrupter or Faith. Maybe both. “It’s not important. Tell her I’ll radio her back.”

There was a pause on the other end of the door, but the Chosen soldier didn’t leave. “She says there’s a shootout on the Whitetail-Henbane border and she wants your help. A few casualties so far – more expected.”

“Fuck,” Jacob growled. He looked back at Maya quickly, a pained look on his face, like he’s not sure if he should go, casualties be damned. “I need to go. We will talk about this later.”

“No. I never want to talk about this again,” Maya intoned, leaning over the toilet bowl like she was going to start vomiting again. She wasn’t, but she needed an out from the conversation and did not want to watch him leave. Somehow once he was gone, the idea of having a baby with him would be gone too; she didn’t want him to see her tear up about _that_. 

“Don’t be like that,” he called to her as he disappeared into the hall.

 

* * *

 

Maya was in bed for the night reading _Mumu’s Fashion Week_ when Jacob slipped into her room. He was fairly quiet when he arrived, eyeing her book with curiosity and asking her if he could stay. She agreed, but said nothing other than niceties to him until he began. The tension from earlier was palpable even now and he measured his words more carefully than usual.

Jacob produced a grocery bag and put it in front of them on the bed, and began rummaging through it and setting things on her quilt like he was a traveling salesman. “Listen, Maya,” he paused, searching for the right words, “I didn’t expect to be a father. I am old. Probably _too old_ \- ” 

Maya sighed, interrupting him, “You _already_ said that, Jacob.”

He stopped rummaging for a moment and looked up at her serious, catching her gaze with those mesmerizing blue eyes of his. “I know – let me finish. I might be _old as dirt_ , and this might have been unplanned, but I don’t hate the idea of being a father. Not if you’re the mother. Not if I have _you_.”

Maya froze, heat spreading across her cheeks. Was he saying what she thought he was? Christ, was she going to cry _again_?

He placed a small package on the blanket before her and continued. “I found a test at Lorna’s Truck Stop, of all places. Take it so we know for sure. And when our suspicions are confirmed, come out and take this folic acid and vitamin D. It’s good for the baby.”


End file.
